The Little Things
by Cow-of-Doom
Summary: An NT short story that never got published about Balthazaar's teeny-tiny soft side.


The Little   
Things  
_by supergirl309  
  
_Balthazaar sat at a scuffed-up oaken table in one of the many Faerie storage rooms at his warehouse. He was counting a plump sack of Neopionts. The thick table was gouged here and there with deep clawmarks and one corner was torn away. Teeth-marks edged the jagged scar. The Lupe was not know for a good temper.  
  
He grabbed another bag of Neopionts from beside his chair and began counting these as well. The dim lightbulb hanging alone in the middle of the sloping ceiling shed a wan shaft of light over the table, illuminating a cluster of drifting golden dust particles. Neopionts spilled onto the table and glowed dully in the light. With a cruel lust in his eyes, Balthazaar counted aloud the last Neopiont of over twenty-million. He'd been counting all day, obsessed with all the money he'd collected over the years. He let out a long, contented sigh and leaned back in his chair. Through the small square window cut in the wall, he watched the last rays of red-gold sunlight spill over the west horizon.   
  
With a small shower of sparks, the light bulb flickered and diminished to a dull glass bulb. The glow of Faeries stacked high on shelf after shelf provided more light than the lightbulb had in the dim twilight. Balthazaar stood, absorbing the soft warm glow of the Faeries. He walked over to the shelves and began surveying his living riches.  
  
The looks of intense hatred shot at him by the majority of the tiny Faeries only made him laugh. Other Faeries were banging against the thick glass walls of their jars in a futile attempt to escape. Scanning the shelves, Balthazaar noticed a Dark Faerie huddled up in the corner of her jar. He peered through the glass and stared at her.  
  
Her slim body was hunched over in an arc. Her petite feet drummed dully on the floor of the jar. Tiny glittering wings erupted from her back, shimmering in the purplish glow her body let off naturely. She turned her face towards Balthazaar. A single shadowy tear rolled down her cheek. She sniffed.   
  
Balthazaar turned his head at an angle. You're quite beautiful, he observed off-handedly. I can see that magical blessing powers aren't the only reason you sell so quickly. He reached for the jar and slowly, part sub-consciously, he unscrewed the lid. The Faerie stared up at him, a look of disbelief stamped on every feature. Slowly, she pulled herself over the edge of the jar and stood on the rim of the opening. Go on then, Balthazaar said simply. You're free.  
  
The Faerie flushed with delight and buzzed off toward the door. Before leaving, she turned around and waved at the Lupe. Then, she flew out the door and slowly, her glow faded into the night.  
  
Balthazaar stood there for a moment, then silently sat back down. A second later, he was on his feet again, unscrewing jar after and letting the prisoners free. In minutes, a cluster of hundreds of Faeries hovered above him, glowing and smiling. Slowly, they began to file out of the room, the looks on their faces expressing the sheer gratitude that words could not. Then, just as the last Air Faerie turned to leave, Balthazaar awoke, with no memory whatsoever of the dream.   
  
He raised his head from his table and glanced at the stack of rumpled papers lying near his head. He picked up the top paper and threw it to the floor. There are orders here that need going-over! he roared. A score of pets flew to the doorway and began loading down their arms with papers.  
  
A rainbow Gelert rushed to his side and tapped him on the shoulder. Sir, you're needed elsewhere, she said timidly.  
  
Just a sec! he bellowed. Just go on! I'll be with you in a minute! Scat! They scattered. Balthazaar sighed and stared at the shelves of Faeries. What _had _that dream been about...  
  
Slowly, he sighed and trudged off to meet the Gelert.  
  
***  
  
Later that night, Balthazaar returned to his storeroom. He slumped into the chair beside the table and released a long sigh. He looked up at the solitary lightbulb lighting the room. It looked ready to go out. He'd have to get someone to replace it soon.   
  
pHe glanced at the window. Something caught his eye. Trying to slip through the bars in the window was an Earth Faerie. Balthazaar started to stand up, but something pushed him back down. He'd let it go. It was just one after all... it wouldn't make a difference. He watched it struggle finally through the bars and fly off to freedom. It wouldn't make a difference...  
  
It did.  
  
**The End  
  
**_Note: Sometimes it's the little things that make the real differences. To us, the little things may not seem like a big deal--but to the little things themselves, the difference is everything. To that one Earth Faerie, Balthazaar's small choice was the difference between freedom and captivity--Balthazaar just didn't know how much it mattered. ...Or did he?   
~Supergirl309_


End file.
